


gasoline stars

by drilbur



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Abstract, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Unspecified Setting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-04
Updated: 2020-12-04
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:33:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27728158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drilbur/pseuds/drilbur
Summary: soulmates: final act, scene three.
Relationships: Mark Lee/Xiao De Jun | Xiao Jun
Comments: 17
Kudos: 47
Collections: Challenge #3 — soulmates





	gasoline stars

the curtains sway in a manner that will put the leaves in the wind to shame. street lights blink haphazardly, some car sounds an alarm at a distance. despite all of it, it’s eerily quiet, so pristine and the atmosphere sings songs of silence. the moon hides her face today and the sky is clear, clouds shimmering with crystals in the cold night air. in the drowned light of dawn, mark breathes unevenly, heart thumping in the cages of his chest, hands wandering in the minimal light that shines at the end of the hallway at the kitchen, eyes blinded by want, lips coated with lust. his tongue feels heavy in his mouth as he gasps again, he feels dejun’s hands run up his sides without a warning, lifting his hips gently.

every minute, every moment feels like it’s the last with dejun. he chases him like he’s a kite gotten out of his hand at a carnival, running, flying away with every inch of his sensibility. dejun eagerly presses his bitten lips to the warmth of mark’s thighs, littering him with small bruises that will fade away tomorrow, but alternates them with small licks that mark greedily takes with no complaints. all he does is hold on to the white pillow next to him with a harsh grip. he knows exactly what dejun is thinking, he doesn’t need to verbalize it, he knows it all in the heart of hearts and in the faint glow that his chest burns in. dejun’s eyes sparkle as he looks over at mark, soothing his grip over mark’s thighs and reaching out to caress the light that embraces mark in the pale golden gleam.

mark feels his heart tighten, growing two fold in size, aching to break out of the cage he’s put it in and land as a mush in dejun’s hands. he feels tears prick the corner of his eyes as dejun moves even slower now, mark’s hand firmly intertwined in his as he pushes mark’s knees closer towards his chest and sits up in a position so that he can face him better.

“you look beautiful,” dejun whispers, the air picking up his hushed breaths and dripping honey in mark’s ears. mark keens into the hold that dejun has on him and rolls his hips a little. “touch me. touch me, please. jun, we don’t have time,” mark cries out, and the night answers with a quiet breeze that envelops him in shivers. mark stares through the haze of his eyes at dejun’s chest glowing with a pink hue in response to his own, their souls at home and happy. however, all mark feels is pain and guilt. “we have all the time in the world, mark. you know i’m always with you, right?” dejun says quietly, spreading mark’s thighs and lowering his head a little. mark’s breath hitches in his throat, stuck and unable to leave.

an indistinguishable vanilla scent tickles mark’s nose and he’s overwhelmed by how at home he feels with just that. dejun curves his lips up and leaves a lingering kiss at the head of mark’s dick and mark can’t help but feel an electric pulse course through his body at it. dejun lets out a small giggle that’s barely audible and does it again and again, and mark thrashes at his feet.

“jun, please— we don’t have the time,” dejun just snickers and runs his hands over mark’s burning chest, quelling his cries and pressing a soft sigh into the flesh of his thigh.

“baby, don’t worry. everything is going to be okay, i’m right here.” _lies._

mark feels the glow settle into a steady ember now, the gold now fading into a pale shimmer at the mercy of dejun’s fingers. mark sucks a long breath as he feels dejun take him wholly, all bounds broken and done, hollowing out his cheeks at the base. mark feels his heart thump at a breakneck pace, eyes rolling to the back of his head, hands unconsciously searching to card through dejun’s hair as he runs a tongue over his length.

soulmates was a peculiar concept to him. mark pretended like it was nothing, at age nine, to see his father leave his mother crying at the doorstep of their house, luggages packed and without a second glance. he had been hunched up with his gameboy plugged in and watched his father drag his shoes on the driveway. his mother’s glow had faded away in two months, completely. gone for good, he had thought. he couldn’t understand why if you would love someone so much, you would have to leave them eventually. his mother had told him that his father didn’t want her to get hurt, and so he left her so that she can be safe at all times. but he knows now, what it feels like to have your one chance at attaining that concept of _love_ destroyed and hollowed out. one chance, do it right or never look back.

dejun gets his mouth off of mark and eagerly moves up to latch his tongue on his lips, and to taste himself like this feels like absolute sin. dejun doesn’t mind at all, though. sometimes, he thinks that dejun is all that he has apart from himself. sometimes, mark wants to believe that soulmates exist because every passing day with dejun feels like he’s on a train with a final destination, he knows it leads somewhere. he knows where he is headed to, and the thought scares him but when dejun looks at him like he’s teetering off the edge of the world, with mark’s hand the only thing holding him up, he believes it might be okay in the end, after all.

dejun presses a tiny kiss at the corner of mark’s mouth and then moves down to his jaw and mark cannot get enough of this at all. he lets his body move in accord with dejun’s lips and how overwhelming it feels to even have him this close to him. dejun gets a free pass to mark’s non-believer bullshit, as he likes to think. dejun, after all, is his soulmate. and he makes mark waffles in the morning, smelling similar to vanilla perfume he wears after bath, and also thinks mark is a decent, respectable human. and that is probably enough in his books. but dejun goes above and beyond, like he was a soaring plane leaving a lasting gas trail in mark’s empty blue skies. dejun tells mark that he likes him because he is creative, and likes to write the most amazing songs, and also because everything that mark does, dejun cannot do and that somehow that makes them perfect for each other. dejun likes bringing purple lilacs home for mark every tuesday after his shift at the local book store. dejun likes leaving small kisses at mark’s nape while hugging him from behind and mark thinks that it’s the neatest trick that the universe has played on him, by giving him the most perfect thing in the world, telling him that it’s his forever, allowing him to fall in love with it, and then taking it away all in an instant.

mark’s chest glows in distress and dejun’s quick to notice as his glow burns tepid in response. mark allows a stray tear to escape his eyes and dejun doesn’t stop painting his face with all the love that he can.

“i’ll take care of you, mark. don’t worry, you’re mine forever.” something sinks to the bottom of mark’s stomach at that. he wants dejun whole, unfiltered and impossibly close and he could tell dejun is holding back from consuming him inside out. dejun slips a bit under and leaves his lips to wander around mark’s glow, casting a glance over at mark’s ruined face. it was too much, all of a sudden. this was the last chance, their last dance together, and mark pictures how he shuddered at the grip of his gameboy, as his father turned his back to his childhood home, a vague cry of his mother haunts his ears for a second.

“don’t hold back, jun. i want it all.”

dejun thinks mark is insane. he stays there, at the foot of mark’s collarbone, staring impossibly under the dim light of his glow illuminating his face and highlighting all of his deepest fears and insecurities at a glance. dejun sees all of his madness, and smiles. like he was insane too. and mark thinks this is like filling up his broken edges with liquid gold, perfecting it thoroughly and then letting himself shatter onto the floor.

it’s all a blur but mark tries his best to savour everything he can. the stale air exiting their one open window, the faint buzz of the refrigerator in the kitchen, and watching dejun grab the lube and condom from their nightstand. he pushes dejun's hand away from the condom and shakes his head. dejun understands everything with full clarity, at this one moment. mark closes his eyes and tries to breathe out evenly.

dejun props mark’s legs up his shoulder, pulling his body closer till mark writhes in want and coats his fingers with some lube.

“you aren’t going to forget me, are you?” dejun asks with a sad smile, mark doesn’t answer at all. he snaps his mouth shut and prays to the universe that he will not ruin whatever this is with him crying. instead, mark watches dejun press a lingering kiss to his ankle and prod his entrance with the coated fingertips. mark hisses at the contact but dejun evens out his kinks by applying lesser pressure. two fingers become three and then dejun is pushing into him, and mark feels like he’s an exploded firework onto the canvas of the night sky.

he feels dejun in every crevice of his body, dragging, pulsing, and _aching_ and mark matches his pace, gripping onto his biceps for dear life. everything feels too tangible, too _real_ for him to comprehend. dejun doesn’t realize the extent of wreckage he’s going to leave behind when mark wakes up the next morning. mark was just a kite stuck in dejun’s hurricane, beaten and battered but still alive at the eye. his own dick stays untouched but painfully erect, flailing around at every thrust that dejun subjects him to, holding his thighs and dragging his nails across mark’s littered skin. dejun grunts and bucks up into him repeatedly, hitting mark’s sweet spot again and again.

“jun—jun, junnie. please, please— _give me more._ " mark hears himself saying, breathing hitched, wantonly moaning. he doesn’t know if he can take it if dejun decides to give him his all.

“jesus, _baby—_ " he fucks into him a few more times, for a few more minutes, keeping him on edge before eventually all hell breaks loose and mark is spurting thin ropes of white all over his chest, covering up his glow in clouds. dejun goes on for a few more seconds, and then he comes too—inside of mark, fully and utterly, so much that mark chuckles at how good it feels to be so full and drenched with love. he wonders how long this high will last.

mark palms vaguely at the red blush on dejun’s chest and compares it to his own golden one and dejun smiles back at him. his chest is warm, flushed, and blazing, and mark eyes it like it's his best ever artwork. mark's words never work, his lips try but all he wants to yell is love into dejun's ears.

“jun—”

“don’t say anything, it’ll be okay.” mark wants to believe him, the bright red on dejun’s chest fades into a calm pink and mark deludes himself once more. he stops himself from asking questions, and dejun gets an old washcloth to wipe themselves clean. when the lights go out in the kitchen, all he can see is the plush of dejun’s lips under his glow, whispering to the back of his ear as he situates himself closely under the duvet.

“i love you, mark.”

sleep finds home in him, eyes tugged down and blankets up until his chin, dejun pressed tightly to his side, one arm over his torso. his brain runs miles before resting and somehow, dejun’s vanilla perfume makes his world dance.

—

morning shines through, warmth has left his body. there’s no one beside him, only a crumpled pillow case to show him it was all indeed real and mark didn’t conjure an incredible lucid dream. the perfume stands still in their bathroom counter but every other trace of dejun is now gone, dust to the wind. except himself. mark feels his heart beat out of harmony, no music, only noise. he touches his glow, the golden light now subdued in the brightness of the sun through the windows. it feels like raw fire in his skin, his world spins on an axis that’s not dejun’s. mark laughs pitifully.

maybe dejun will forever be his, too. somewhere, in another universe. not here, not now.

the universe does miraculous things indeed.

**Author's Note:**

> hi! this was purely self-indulgent and i hope it left you with some amount of questions but also satisfaction. thank you to the alw mods who have been so incredibly patient and hardworking with the fest !! a huge shout-out to them. and thank you for reading, as always. stay safe and healthy !
> 
> tell me abt ur favorite pkmn  
> [twt](https://twitter.com/emberhit)


End file.
